


kinky

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cousy Rewatch, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 23:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12492800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: Coulson puts Daisy in handcuffs. No, not like that.Written for the #CousyRewatch event at johnsonandcoulson.com





	kinky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tqpannie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/gifts).



“Okay, put them on,” Daisy says.

Coulson hesitates.

“It’s okay, it won’t hurt,” she reassures him. “They have to believe you’re giving me up.”

Still, Coulson doesn’t seem convinced, and proceeds with a kind of unsure slowness. Daisy watches him kneel on the floor of the tactical van and smiles when he can’t catch her. She likes that he’s not comfortable with this, even for a sneaky plan. Her sneaky plan. She likes that his thoughtfulness around her hasn’t diminished with the years of friendship, the familiarity between them. That it hasn’t changed either even after she got her powers.

He slips the super tech handcuffs over her wrists slowly. It brings back bad memories, but recontextualized by Coulson being so careful. 

She’s tense, like before every mission (she hasn’t learned not to). This particular one hinges on someone being potentially so stupid as to believe Coulson could ever surrender it to the authorities. She knows Coulson would never do that, which is why it was easier for her to come up with a script. If she had any doubt this wouldn’t be so easy - it wouldn’t be so easy to let him slip these handcuffs over her wrists, when she knew that was bound to bring up some stuff.

There are other memories. Not of handcuffs, but Daisy can’t help reaching out for those right now.

She looks down; Coulson is manipulating the lock of the handcuffs, his face completely obscured to her, she can only see the crown of his head, the short hair, thinning but looking soft, in an image that feels her with tenderness and nostalgia for every moment they have been alone like this.

“You know what this reminds me of?” she says.

Coulson lifts his head. “What?”

“That time you had me wear that annoying electronic bracelet.”

“Your internet nanny?”

Her mouth hangs open for a moment. 

“I can’t believe you remember that,” she says.

Now it’s his turn to look embarrassed. Or more like, ashamed.

“I’m sorry. You should have never had to wear it.”

She shrugs, feeling for the first time the handcuffs limiting her movement.

“It’s fine. I knew it was your way of letting me stay in SHIELD.”

At the time she was annoyed of course, but appreciative of how the farce had allowed Coulson to keep her in the team without having to reveal her real intentions to SHIELD at large. Some days that kind of stuff feels like a million years ago, but some days it feels fresh in her mind.

“I never said thank you, by the way,” she tells him.

“For your internet nanny?”

“No, for letting me stay on the team. All those years ago.”

Coulson averts his gaze.

“SHIELD was hiding something from you,” he says. “I couldn’t entirely blame you for taking extreme measures.”

“ _Extreme measures_. I like that.”

Something about her voice makes him look up again and they stand in silence for a moment, looking at each other, Coulson on his knees between her legs, remembering - no, maybe just _rewriting_ the past.

“Do they hurt?” Coulson asks, after he has set the lock on the cuffs.

Daisy fights against the device for a moment, rehearsing how to look like she believes she’s trapped. They have to buy it, the new scary men in dark suits. They have to believe she was forced to come here, just like they have to believe Coulson has put her in handcuffs, even if the fake story is that he believes it’s for her own good, to protect her.

Well, he has just put her in handcuffs. That part is true.

But it’s not exactly the same.

 

+

 

Deactivating the handcuffs is a bit complex (it’s supposed to be) and here he is again, kneeling in front of Daisy. He hadn’t thought about it before, but something about the position is making him feel funny.

The mission had gone just as Daisy predicted, but that didn’t mean it was smooth. It wasn’t. A discreetly covered cut on Daisy’s eyebrow proves that. It went smooth enough, considering their record track.

Coulson puts even more care in releasing the cuffs than putting them all; Daisy had to fight, and fight restricted by these, so now he can see a faint red band around her wrists, from where she pulled against the metallic device. It makes Coulson want to run his thumb across it, that redness, to soothe it, comfort her. She doesn’t need comforting and it’s just a tiny irritation on the skin. Still, he feels a pull.

“This is kind of kinky,” Daisy says.

Coulson knows it’s a joke - she likes those - but something about it must have made an impact, and he must have made an odd face. Daisy immediately backtracks.

“I’m just teasing,” she tells him.

It’s a bit annoying, he’s not sure why, that she thinks that kind of talk might make him uncomfortable. Or uncomfortable _coming from her_. It makes him feel a bit hurt in his pride, even though he suspects Daisy would never mean it like that.

“I’m not a prude, you know,” he says, a little more gruff than he intended, dropping his gaze to the handcuffs again.

“I know.”

“I can be kinky,” he repeats, looking up at her again, even more prideful.

Daisy arches an eyebrow, looking both amused and impressed. Then something softens in her and then something _shifts_ , the air inside the van suddenly changes, like the cracking of electricity before a storm. Daisy pulls her hands away, the cuffs still locked, and she rests the heel of her hands against Coulson’s chest, above his chest, his collarbone. He’s on his knees so she has to bend down to kiss him, pressing her lips very gently to his mouth. 

It’s such a Daisy kiss, he thinks,more endeared by that fact than surprised that she is kissing him at all. He doesn’t reciprocate yet, enjoying the feeling of letting her do whatever she wants, letting her explore, the way she gently catches his lip between her teeth one moment, the way her tongue insinuates itself shyly the next. Like she is testing him. Testing _this_. Tasting this.

She spends a long bit studying Coulson’s face afterwards. He is a bit naughty, tries to keep a neutral expression to keep her guessing, but then thinks it’s not a game he wants to play with her (there are other games), and smiles slightly, shyly too. Daisy relaxes, her fingers sliding across his neck, his jaw, holding his face as best as she can with the handcuffs on.

“I never thought the mission would work,” he wonders out loud.

Daisy smiles, their faces still close together, her back and arch downwards to meet his body.

“Why? You didn’t like my plan?”

She looks offended.

“I just never imagined someone would be stupid enough to believe I’d ever give you up,” he confesses, still troubled by the idea that someone, even a stranger, might.

Daisy gives him a wonderful smile - one of those soft, honest ones that he wishes she’d sow more often, even if he isn’t the cause (but he enjoys being the cause, if he’s honesty).

“Hey, that’s nice,” she says.

She is kissing him again and suddenly she is maneuvering them, slipping from her seat to the floor of the tactical van, pushing Coulson backwards until he is sitting on his ass, and Daisy is straddling his lap. Coulson feels his hands lift to her back, out of their own volition, as if trying to catch her. But she is not falling. She knows what she’s doing. She has Coulson pinned in more than one sense. It’s aggressive enough to make his mouth go dry (all that power, those muscles), but her touch remains curiously light. This time Coulson opens his mouth, kissing back.

The speed of it all doesn’t worry him; what worries him is the light this shines on the past, of years of innocent interactions. But he decides not to overthink it. They do that, he and Daisy. They overthink everything and then they make bad decisions in spite of all that overthinking. Maybe this time they can be impulsive and get it right.

“I can leave the handcuffs on,” Daisy says. Coulson lets out a groan (all that power, she could break them). She laughs. “You really are kinky.”

“I hope that’s okay with you,” he jokes, not wanting to assume.

Daisy tilts her head to one side, studying him, barely repressing a smirk.

“Let’s find out,” she says.


End file.
